From the title, I am assuming some of my readers are skipping this entry. I understand. Some people cannot stomach eggs. But this morning, with Robert and the youth off to Columbus, I have lazed around a bit. What I really wanted was runny eggs on toast as my mom made them but I have never figured out the timing or secret so if you know, let me know.
When I was young and continuing through my older life, when I was sick, I always seemed to love runny eggs on toast. And my mom never was too busy. These were soft cooked eggs in their shells. The toast was always buttered and then cut into small squares. Not separated ... the toast still retained it's shape but it made it easier to eat as the runny eggs soaked into the toast. Small bites. Always with catchup. and I always felt better.
This morning I am not sick. I just wanted runny eggs on toast. But I can't get the timing right on the eggs in the shell and then usually scald my hand on the steam or burn my fingers on the shell. So I just toasted a piece of bread, buttered it, and soft pan fried the egss. Didn't turn out at all but I ate it and sat for awhile remembering how perfect my mom was. In everything. You might ask why I never had her teach me......well.....because I foolishly figured she'd be around forever. Foolish me.